Ethereal Easter
by Got Tea
Summary: CFO April Challenge. The Ethereal girls get an unusual Easter hunt challenge from their parents.


This is my April Challenge Response for CSI Forever Online. It has already been posted for me by ILoveJorja on her account due to technical issues with mine, so it's not new, but as its part of the Ethereal Universe, I wanted to add it here anyway. As always, happy reading...

...

...

Sara smiled lazily at Gil as he rolled over to face her in bed.

"Hey," she grinned. "Did you sleep well?" In answer he reached out and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her in for an early morning kiss and cuddle.

"What time is it?" he asked, his lips tracing her collarbone and moving gently over her bare shoulder.

"Mmm, seven fifteen," she murmured as he moved his attention to her throat.

"Are the girls still asleep?" he wanted to know as his lips moved lower.

"Yes, not a peep yet," she hissed.

In answer, Gil moved back to her lips and pulled her into a searing kiss. Arranging for them both to have Easter weekend off was easy; the rest of the team were all more interested in other holidays, and so as long as they both came up with plausible reasons for wanting the time off, Grissom and Sara could freely enjoy some quality family time without arousing suspicion from their co-workers.

Ghost the cat jumped off the bed in disgust as Gil rolled Sara onto her back and covered her body with his. Sara groaned into his mouth as he kissed her over and over, his hands roaming over her soft skin. When she tried to slide her hands down his torso he stopped her with a wicked smile on his face. Holding both of her hands above her head he proceeded to tease her unmercifully. Sara struggled not to cry out as he slid down her body, his tongue trailing over her right breast. He was sliding his free hand down her side and across her hip when the unmistakable sound of little girl giggling drifted to their ears.

Gil slid back up her body and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

"Sorry honey," he breathed in her ear.

One of the few pros of working the night shift was that when they weren't on vacation, their sleeping and private time occurred while their girls were at school. Sara grinned, kissed him with passion and a promise for later, and slid out of bed.

"I'll shower first if you get Trouble downstairs for breakfast," she said, stretching languidly.

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed. "Did you finish Kaia's puzzle?" he asked as he pulled on a pair of long pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt.

"Yes, it's in my middle desk drawer, in the car insurance file, with Sydney's." Gil opened his bedside cabinet and pulled out a legal envelope containing the two puzzles he had constructed for their Easter hunt.

"Let the games begin," he grinned, winking at her before he strode out of the room and down the hall. Sitting on her ladybug shaped bed, three year old Kati was lining up plastic ants while Hank sat watching her, one paw resting on her knee.

"Morning daddy," she sang, abandoning her toys and jumping up into his arms. "Time to feed Henwri," she giggled.

"Not yet Kat, breakfast first," he said, shifting her to his hip as he carried her down to the kitchen.

"What shall we have?" Kati grinned and clapped her hands as he sat her on the counter.

"Ant pancakes," she giggled.

"Not rabbits for Easter?" he asked. Kati shook her head, smiling at him.

"Ants are better daddy," she informed him seriously. Grissom grinned at her and agreed.

...

Rolling over in her sleep fifteen year old Sydney poked her elbow into the click wheel of her iPod; the rousing tones of Vivaldi's Concerto No. 2 in G Minor (L'estate) RV. 315, Op. 8, No. 2:III. Presto promptly blasted into her eardrums and thrust her abruptly into wakefulness. Gasping, she sat up, fumbling for the volume control.

Isis, her temperamental Siamese cat, smacked her with a paw at the rude interruption to her nap, before crawling up the bed and sticking her head into Syd's hip. Lying back, Sydney put a comforting arm around her beloved pet and closed her eyes, letting the full track play out; stopping music in the middle of a song was the biggest of sins in Syd's music-obsessed life.

When the track ended she switched off the iPod and leapt out of bed, running through the bathroom and into her twin's room where she yanked the pillow off the top of her head. Sophie yelled and rolled over, throwing a stuffed spider at her attacker. Sydney ducked, grinning. Duck, the most easy going pet in the house, yawned, rolled over and started purring, her tail twitching.

"Wake up Sophie, it's Easter and mom and dad are both off the entire weekend," sang Syd, tickling Duck's tummy. Sophie glared at her sister.

"Why are you so awake?" she growled, stuffing her pillow back to the top of the bed. Sitting up she saw the tell-tale sparkle in Syd's eyes.

"Did your iPod wake you up again?" she asked suspiciously. Sydney nodded and pulled her to her feet.

"Come on, can't you smell the pancakes? If we don't hurry up it'll be ants instead of strawberries again. Can't you hear Kati talking to dad?"

Sophie grimaced, realizing Syd was right. Together they ran out of Sophie's room and across the hall into eleven year old Kaia's room. Sophie yanked open the curtains, making the early morning sun spill into the room and reflect harshly off the many gymnastics trophies and medals decorating the shelves.

"What are you doing!" shrieked Kaia as Sydney yanked her into a sitting position.

"Pancakes, Easter eggs, chocolate," squealed Sophie, now thoroughly enthused by the prospect of junk food. What with Sara being a health food lover and a vegetarian to boot, it was one of the few days of the year when the Sidle-Grissom children were allowed to feast on the less nutritional forms of sustenance.

"OK, I'm awake," cheered Kaia, vaulting out of bed.

Despite the fact that she was very careful to maintain a diet conducive to her rigorous athletic career, "the chocolate days", as the three older girls referred to them, were too few and far between to pass up. Laughing and joking they tumbled out of the door and into their mother, who swept them all into a hug, grinning at the source of their uncharacteristic early morning enthusiasm.

"Mom, you can't let dad put ants in the pancakes again," begged Syd, the only other strict veggie in the house. Sara laughed and ran a hand through Sydney's masses of waist length dark brown hair.

"OK, let's see if we can stop him," she said, leading them all downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Morning daddy," chorused the twins. Kaia skipped over and wrapped her arms around Grissom, who scooped her up and twirled her around, kissed her forehead and put her back down.

"OK, pancake feast for all," he proclaimed, carrying laden plates to the table. "There are chocolate chip and blueberries for the vegetarians, and chocolate chip and ants for the bug lovers," he grinned.

Kati clapped her hands and jumped up and down gleefully.

"Delightful dear," smirked Sara, leaning over to give him a kiss before settling in her seat next to Sophie.

As Grissom began to dish up the pancakes, Sara took a bottle of syrup and outlined eggs on them before passing them on to her daughters. While Kati chattered away to Gil about ants and spiders, Kaia poured tea and the twins started decorating their pancake eggs. They were dishing up the last remnants of Gil's excellent breakfast when Sophie grabbed the syrup bottle and held it over her plate. The bottle was half empty, so she shook it vigorously, trying to get more to ooze out. Unfortunately, she had left the cap off. Even more unfortunately, it did not ooze out. Syrup shot out of the bottle in a stream that travelled rapidly in multiple directions. Shrieks briefly split the air as the unsuspecting rest of the family were hit with sticky, sugary slime. Then, suddenly silence reigned supreme for a moment as they sat taking in the damage.

Kati had a trail running straight down her forehead and nose, Gil had globules of the stuff stuck in his customary morning porcupine hairdo, Kaia had criss-crosses over her arms, where she had thrown them up in self-defence and Sydney, sitting next to her twin, had borne the brunt of the explosion and was covered in a web of syrupy lines. Her arms were dripping with the stuff, it ran down her cheeks, her eyebrows and eyelashes were misted with it and her hair was sticking together in gooey clumps.

Miraculously, Sara and Sophie were somehow unscathed.

"Well," remarked Grissom, "That was impressive."

The table erupted with laughter as they all studied each other. Sara darted into the family room and grabbed the camera, snapping shots of Sophie's victims before they gobbled the rest of their food and dispersed to shower off the syrup. As Sophie started clearing the table, Sara grabbed a cloth and began to wipe up the mess.

"Sorry mom," giggled Sophie as she loaded the dishwasher.

"It's fine," grinned Sara as she rinsed her hands, "It just means that your dad gets to give Kati her bath, and since I've already had a shower that's a very good thing."

...

Sydney was drying her hair when Sophie finally made it upstairs.

"It took me two washes to get that stuff out of my hair," she said reproachfully, before smirking with amusement. "You should probably hurry up too, or Kati will get all the chocolate before we even get a chance."

"I'm on it," yelped Sophie, diving in the shower.

Syd turned off the dryer, combed out her hair and hurried to get dressed. Arriving in the kitchen at breakneck speed she found only her mother.

"Relax Syddie, we're not starting until everyone is ready," said Sara, shaking her head in amusement. "And we have something different for each of you to do."

"Really?"

"Definitely," promised Sara.

"OK, cool," agreed Syd, turning around and running down the hall to the music room.

Moments later Sara heard the familiar sounds of a cello being tuned and then the opening notes to Sydney's latest masterpiece; she was listening to the changes the girl had made in the last couple of days when Kaia walked into the room on her hands, balancing a folded sweatshirt on her feet. She bent her knees and ankles and carefully placed the cloth of the counter before backing into open space where she lowered her legs into a sideways split, maneuvered her body so she was holding the split right side up, then put her feet down and stood up.

"Very nice," said Sara, "Now please tell me you didn't come downstairs on your hands."

"Of course not," replied Kaia, her voice muffled as she tugged on her sweater, "I could do it, but it's way too risky. Coach would kill me if I injured myself before the meet next month."

"Good," said Sara, her worry abated as she leant to kiss her daughter's head.

"Kati soaked dad with bubbles again," reported the girl. Sara snorted with laughter.

"He never learns, does he?" she mused.

"Mom, there aren't going to be any bugs involved today are there?" worried Kaia.

"Not for you baby, but your dad has something up his sleeve for Kati. I made him promise that he wouldn't use anything real though," she soothed, seeing Kaia begin to get worked up. Kaia took a deep breath and nodded. Much to Grissom's chagrin, she was irrationally afraid of bugs and insects.

A thunder of feet on the stairs preceded Sophie rushing into the room and running up to Sara, a large open text book in her hands. Upon hearing the phrase electromagnetic field, Kaia rolled her eyes and went to join Syd in the music room. Physics, or even any school subject, was not on her agenda for the weekend.

...

Grissom sighed and surveyed his youngest daughter as he combed her hair for her. Kati possessed an irrepressible energy and curiosity, as well as, in his eyes, an honest love and appreciation of bugs. She was presently in the process of carefully fitting her feet into white socks printed with a colony of ants. Her purple leggings were decorated with tiny ladybugs and her long sleeved green sweater was emblazoned with a beautiful butterfly. Finished, she stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you daddy," she giggled, "can we play with buggies now?"

Grissom laughed at her and lifted her off the bed and on to the floor.

"How about you let me get dressed since you soaked my clothes and then we go downstairs for the Easter hunt?" Kati grinned and clapped her hands, running out of the room.

...

Sara stuck her head in the music room and saw Kaia sitting cross legged on the floor watching Sydney play a Bach cello suite, her eyes closed in the musical trace she always slipped into when she played. Sara waited until Syd was finished before speaking.

"Beautiful honey, but it's time to go, unless you've decided you're not interested in chocolate?"

The girls grinned and followed their mother into the family room.

"Okay, girls," grinned Grissom, "we have something a little different for you this year. We have a puzzle for each of you that leads to a treasure box."

Sara gestured to the coffee table, which was covered with a blanket. She then handed each of the girls an envelope.

"You have to follow the trail by solving the clues. The first clue is in the envelope. Have fun." Grinning, she sat back on the couch with Grissom, and the girls tore into their envelopes, reading frantically.

...

Kati stared at the picture on the page. It was a bright blue butterfly with purple spots on its wings and green antenna; with a grin she charged out of the room and up the stairs to her bedroom. She scrambled up onto her bed and reached toward the shelf above it. Plucking the stuffed toy depicted in the clue off the shelf she discovered a cardboard tube sitting behind it. Blue eyes wide, she sat down on the bed and opened the tube, pulling out several pieces of paper. Turning them face up, she frowned; the pieces were a jigsaw, the image was her next clue.

The only child to have inherited Grissom's eyes, Kati's face held the same expression of curious intent as she focused on her task, a picture emerging of a celery stalk covered in peanut butter and chocolate sprinkles. When she finished, a grin marking her clearly Sara's child spread over her face and she zoomed back downstairs to the kitchen, clutching the envelope with the clues inside.

She went first to the fridge and snatched the celery, looking for anything out of place. Finding nothing, she moved on to the cupboard, yanking out the peanut butter; still nothing! Scowling with frustration she moved to the next cupboard, hunting for the chocolate sprinkles, and cackling with delight when she discovered another cardboard tube behind them. Grinning, she ran to the table with her clue.

When daddy made her ants on a log for a snack, he put real ants on it, but mommy didn't know that, and Syddie, Sophie and Kaia liked chocolate sprinkles. Kati thought it was funny that Kaia would eat ants on a log when she was afraid of buggies, but Kaia said that sprinkles weren't really ants. And Kaia was weird anyway; she didn't like bugs. Giggling she opened the tube, searching for her next clue.

...

Sophie opened her envelope with a smile as Kati thundered past her, chocolate ringlets flying in her wake. Inside, scrawled on a slip of paper in her father's elegant script was 'ootpyterp slsac 1859'. Concentrating she perched on the edge of the couch and picked up the pencil that had fallen out of her envelope, tapping the letters as she tried to rearrange them. She pulled letters out and crossed them off, smiling softly as the first word appeared.

Prototype.

An eyebrow raised in thought, she focused on the second word; that came much more quickly than the other.

Class.

Sophie started at the two words together.

Prototype, class.

What on earth was that supposed to mean? Prototype, she thought, first, blueprint, exemplar, model, original. Class, lesson, type, category, group, grade, list, lecture, sermon. She frowned in frustration. Class, type...kingdom, phylum, genus... Species. Prototype species? 1859? Breaking into a grin she jumped up and ran down the hall to what had originally been the dining room, but had been turned into a library, housing her parents' vast collection of books. Running to the biology case she ran her fingers over the spines until she came to the one she was looking for.

Removing the book, she walked over to the work table and carefully opened "On the Origin of Species". Inside the cover was a smaller envelope, which contained another clue, and a tiny square of paper with the letter E on it. The back was blank. The clue was equally as strange.

'Ishmael Old-Pound'. She stared at the paper, utterly confused.

"What on earth, dad?" she muttered, chewing her bottom lip.

"Ishmael?" Sophie wandered over to the bookcase that housed the Encyclopedia Britannica, and pulled out the right volume. She flicked through the pages, her mind turning. Isaac and Ishmael? Her father was a lapsed Catholic, and her mother was not religious; neither had brought up the concept of faith with the girls, beyond a learning and comparison of different religions.

Wandering up and down the room, she scanned the pages, finding nothing to answer her question.

"Ishmael, Isaac, Isaac, Ishmael," she muttered, thinking out loud. Putting the book back she kept moving.

"Isaac and Ishmael, Old-Pound. Isaac, Ishmael, Old, Pound, old, old, new? Pound? Currency? Isaac, Ishmael, old, new, money..." Sophie stopped dead and shook her head in amusement.

Ishmael Old Pound, Isaac New Ton. Replacing Darwin's "On the Origin of Species," she hunted down copies of Isaac Newton's works from her mother's physics library. Scanning through them all she found nothing. Scowling slightly, she sank into a chair to think, letting her mind wander over what she knew of his works. One of her earliest science lessons had been when, at age five, and already obsessed with how things worked, she had been building a tower out of blocks when she had slipped and knocked the whole thing over.

When she became angry, and demanded to know why things fell down and not up, Sara had patiently explained about gravity. Sophie had been dissatisfied with the explanation and told her mother so. Sara had laughed, and told her that a man named Isaac Newton had discovered the principle. Sophie had then declared the tumbled blocks to be his fault, because he had invented gravity. Thinking now about her discovery, Sophie tried to put Newton into the situation, before the puzzle clicked. Gathering her clues she moved to the kitchen, where, in the fruit bowl under the apples, was her next clue.

...

Sara snuggled against Grissom on the sofa, watching as Kati gleefully ran out of the room before clattering up the stairs. Sophie deliberated over her clue, her pencil tapping away as she thought. Sydney was chewing her lower lip as she concentrated, and Kaia suddenly laughed and skipped out of the room.

Gil nuzzled her ear and, as the older two girls left in search of their first set of answers, he pulled her firmly into his lap and kissed her, deeply and lovingly. Sara sighed and melted into him, her limbs curling around his body and melding into his warmth. He kissed her repeatedly, until she was gasping for breath and dizzy with desire.

"I made you a puzzle too," he said softly as he pulled back, reaching to tuck her errant curls back behind her ears. Getting up he fetched his laptop from the end table and opened it up for her. Sara laughed softly and reached under the coffee table for her own computer which she promptly opened and presented to her husband.

"Ditto," she grinned. They swapped machines and set to work.

...

Kaia opened her envelope and stared at her latest clue. In her mother's very distinct chicken scratch was the phrase, "the middle of middle and end of the end." For a moment she stared, where had she heard that before? Then it came to her; she, like her mother, was an avid reader, and this particular series they were reading together. Upstairs in her room, she sat down at her desk and picked up her copy of "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire", leafing through it until she found the sphinx riddle.

There was another slip of paper concealed there. It was a table, six rows by four columns. Across the top were three anagrams, and down the left hand side were another five, with the top left box crossed out. The remaining fifteen boxes were blank. Staring at the anagrams, she picked up a pencil and piece of scrap paper; very quickly she deciphered gold, silver, and bronze across the top. Then, after working out 'balance beam', she quickly filled in the others down the side; uneven bars, floor, vault and individual all around.

Ok, she mused, what competition is this the scoreboard from? Scanning the clue page she found two small hand drawn characters in the top right hand corner. Studying carefully, she realized it was Athina and Phevos, the mascots of the 2004 Athens Olympic Games. Her eyes flickered back to the table and a grin spread over her face; during the Athens games three years ago she had been glued to the television during the gymnastics competition. One day, she declared, she wanted to be on the US Olympic team.

She quickly began scribbling in the names of the athletes, remembering in vivid detail watching as Carly Patterson won gold in the All Around. Finished with the table, she sat back, and frowned.

Now what? Flipping the page over, she discovered a key of sorts. Following the directions, she wrote down a series of letters that related to a specific location in the names she had already scribbled on the paper. She was left with yet another anagram; nas ccisnarof vaenh.

Quickly concluding the first word, she glared at the second, struggling to decode it. Not coming up with anything, she read the word backwards and smiled as she worked it out. Tying that trick with the last word she was soon rewarded with her clue. San Francisco Haven.

Before they had moved to Las Vegas, Sara had often take her girls to a beautiful park where they could play, feed the many ducks living on a picturesque pond, or relax in the peace and quiet. She had referred to the park as her family's own private haven. They had revisited the site last summer while taking a vacation there to see old friends. Smiling warmly at the old memories, she collected her clues and headed for the photo albums in the library.

...

Sara yawned and stretched her muscles; they were cramping up after too long spent concentrating over the puzzle Gil had presented her with. Looking up she saw her husband walk into the room, two coffee mugs in hand.

"Have you finished yours yet?" she asked, sipping the hot beverage with pleasure. He sank down next to her and she lent over to place a kiss of thanks on his cheek.

"No dear, have you?" he replied, lifting the laptop back onto his knees.

"I'm nearly done," she mused, her eyes running over the complicated maze of general knowledge and mathematical problems she was working her way through. "Is this supposed to make any sense?" she asked.

"Patience is a virtue," he answered back, turning his attention back to his crossword, which seemed incredibly straightforward considering it was his wife who had concocted it. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, she was concentrating intently. He could tell by her expression that she was calculating one of the math problems he had found in her old college textbooks. How she managed to do it in her head was beyond him, but that was Sara. Hearing Kati's shriek of delight he smiled softly and turned back to his next riddle.

...

Sydney sorted through the books in the history section of the library, looking for one she had been reading about a month ago. Her clue was a quote, which she was almost sure was by Gustavo Holst, one of her favourite composers. He was also the author of her absolute favourite quote and personal motto. "Never compose anything unless the not composing of it becomes a positive nuisance to you."

Finding the book she was looking for she turned to the index, searching for Holst. Turning to the right chapter she scanned through until she saw what she was looking for; the quote from her clue was printed below a drawing of the planets. "Music, being identical with heaven, isn't a thing of momentary thrills, or even hourly ones. It is a condition of eternity."

Etching the quote into her memory, she flipped through the rest of the book, finding her next clue, and a square of paper with a musical note drawn on it inside the front cover. Unfolding the next slip she studied the chart. A series of classical pieces were listed, with four blank spaces next to them for dates. Each of the dates had a single number underlined.

Sitting down, Syd worked her way through the list, then put together the list of numbers. Using the key on the back of the page, she decoded it to read, 'Sir Thomas Beecham'. Standing to put her book back on the shelf, she let her mind wander. He was the creator of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, the group she most desired to see in concert. Adding her clue and music note to the envelope, she headed for the music room. Most of the walls were covered in white boards that were permanently marked out with staff lines and then scribble across as Syd created her own music. There was however, a large bookcase near the window that contained stacks of sheet music, CDs, a few music books and various other music paraphernalia.

Sydney ran her finger along the CD spines until she came to one featuring the RPO. Opening the case she found another music note, and her final clue. It was merely a series of numbers. 06271995. June 27th 1995!

Closing her eyes Sydney let herself slide back into her clearest early memory. Just after she and Sophie had turned three, Sara had taken them to visit a college friend. Wandering around in the strange house, Sydney had stumbled into a bedroom and found herself facing the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The cello was lying on its side, and for a while she sat there staring at the colour of the wood, the rich curves and the enticing strings. Working up the courage, she reached out and touched it, running her fingers over the strings, listening to the whispering sound her touch made. Fascinated, she tapped the string, and then another, and another and the last. The sound reverberated through her entire body, waking something inside her she hadn't known was there. She made her way up and down the strings, tapping, plucking and holding them down, making them sound different every time.

It was a long time before she noticed her mother leaning in the doorway, staring at her with love and pride.

Opening her eyes, Sydney grinned and walked over to the opposite corner of the room. Sara kept a few mementos of the various stages of childhood of her girls. One of them was the first cello Sydney had owned. Now far too small for her, Syd hoped that she might one day interest Kati in playing, but she was doubtful; Kati had a one track mind, and it revolved around their daddy's bugs. Opening the case she found a final note slipped under the bridge. Putting all of the music notes on the floor, she spread them out.

She closed the case, and then retrieved her full size cello, settling into her chair and looking at the notes. She played them through, listening intently, trying to untangle them. Playing the notes in reverse, she closed her eyes, thinking hard, before feeling a warm, cosy feeling spread through her. Standing, she carried her cello back to the family room.

...

Sara solved the clue in the final box of her seven by seven chart. The 49 boxes lit up and then faded, leaving a coded message highlighted. Smirking at how great minds think alike, Sara clicked on the highlighted letters in order revealing a touching declaration. 'Since I met you!'

With the last letter, the screen dissolved into a photo of their four girls on the beach last summer; they were all covered in sand, sunlight, and glee, as they worked on a mammoth sandcastle.

Sitting back Sara closed the laptop and leaned over to kiss Gil, her lips lingering over his until they heard a shriek of laughter upstairs.

"I love you," she murmured. In response, he kissed her again.

Shrieking with glee, Sophie charged back into the family room and dropped to her knees, spreading letters out on the coffee table.

Sara laughed and sat back watching her. Soon after that, Kati came crashing in, clutching a picture, which she promptly dropped and began digging around in the corner. Gil smiled to himself as he filled in the last word and most of the letters vanished, leaving him only a few to rearrange. It still amazed him sometimes how in sync he and Sara were.

Solving the private joke anagram 'Gruesome Grissom', he found himself looking at a family portrait from just before Christmas; all six of them in jeans and sweaters, sitting on the porch of his mother's house in California. He stared at the picture, taking in every detail, the way Kati's hair was curling out of control, the way Kaia was leaning against his side, her arm around his neck. Sydney and Sophie, together as usual, posing back to back on the step below the others, and Sara's hand, clasped in his as she kept an arm around Kati. He smiled at the simple gesture, wishing both at once that their private family life did not have to be so private, and then for the sacred family privacy to last forever.

Studying the picture intently, he found his gaze drawn back to his and Sara's clasped hands.

Something wasn't right there, a shadow obscured part of her hand where such a thing shouldn't occur. Focusing sharply he moved the curser over to the area, wanting to blow it up and look closer, but as he did so an icon appeared over their hands. An eyebrow raised, he clicked and then gasped. The image changed, to a photo he had thought long lost and irreplaceable.

Snuggled together on a beach in San Francisco, a younger Gil and Sara were watching the sun set, his arms wrapped protectively around her from behind. Sara, pregnant with the twins, was just starting to show and was radiant in the waning light.

"Where did you..." he gasped, turning to her in awe.

"I was cleaning out a box of college papers; I must have put it in there when we moved. I have a framed copy for you. Your mother sent me the other one."

"Thank you, they're beautiful."

"You're welcome," she smiled, eyes bright with happiness.

...

Sara and Gil carefully put each other's laptops safely out of the way and turned to find all of the girls assembled before them.

"So, how did you do?" she asked, surveying them.

"The answer to my puzzle is Formicidae," declared Sophie, a grin on her face.

"Well done, Soph," grinned Grissom.

"I got ants," cried Kati, holding up a hand drawn picture she had found inside the DVD 'A Bug's Life'. Sara frowned, and turned to Gil.

"The three of us are going to build and study an ant farm," he admitted. "All very safe and secure. Outside though, not in the basement."

Sara nodded in agreement. Grissom kept his collection of bugs, alive and dead, in the basement with his other experiments. It was locked to keep curious three-year-olds out, and the bugs in away from Kaia, who was "mentally allergic" to all thing creepy.

"Sure," agreed Sara easily. "Just know that I'll be keeping plenty of Raid on hand for if they escape." Gil smiled and passed a sheet of paper to Sophie so she could take a look at his plans.

Kaia put down her own letters and spelled out Shannon Miller, her gymnastic heroine.

"Syd, that leaves you honey," said Gil, "what did you come up with?" Sydney smiled and began to play Suite for Solo Cello No. 1 in G Major, Prelude.

"Beautiful, baby," applauded Sara when she finished.

Standing up she gathered them all in a hug. "Ok, since it's Easter, and you have all very definitely exercised your brains this morning, we have a surprise for you." Gil moved over to the coffee table.

"Since you guys are our treasure and we keep little memory boxes for each of you, we thought it would be nice for you to have little treasure boxes of your own."

Lifting the blanket he revealed four wooden boxes, each decorated with a name artistically burnt into the top. The girls crowded round, gasping in awe and pleasure. Sara took the cello from Sydney so she could get closer. Putting it carefully in the corner she wrapped her arms around her husband as their girls discovered the chocolate and candy stashed away inside the boxes. Shrieks of joy permeated the room, and then a wave of thanks and 'I love you's' descended on them and four girls tumbled into their parents in a many-armed hug.

...

Hours later, when all four children were finally asleep, Sara slipped into bed next to Grissom.

"You know," she said, as she handed him the framed copy of his photograph, "there was no pink shell in the original of that beach photo." Gil laughed.

"I really thought you hadn't seen it," he replied, setting the photo carefully on his nightstand.

"Oh yeah, you're doubting my skills now?" she ribbed. "No, what I don't get is the message hidden behind it."

Gil started laughing harder.

"We really do think alike!" he snorted.

Sara shook her head in amusement.

"Echinarachnius Parma? The Sand Dollar?" she looked at him. "I'm sorry honey, but I have no idea what it means."

Gil reached into the drawer of his bedside cabinet, pulling out a small box which he handed to Sara.

"I found this on the beach when I was seven. I kept it because it was unusually small. It was in my treasure box, when we found those for the girls, it reminded me of this." Sara opened the box and lifted out a perfect Sand Dollar the size of a quarter. A natural hole served to house a loop of cord, making it a necklace of understated beauty.

"I love it," she breathed, lifting her gaze to his. Setting the necklace carefully aside, he pulled her gently to him and kissed her passionately. They tumbled back against the pillows, lost in each other and their own private, treasured universe.


End file.
